


Wild Violets and Unicorn Stickers

by Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: AWRBB2020, AndroidWhumpReverseBigBang2020, Blood and Injury, Found Family, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Pre-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Redemption, Torture, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26215894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin/pseuds/Lopsided_Whiskey_Grin
Summary: Ralph used to have a family, he's sure of it. But with the pain and torment he's endured, the memory is hazy and just out of his reach. Will Ralph ever find his way back to the arms of the people who once cared for him  or will he be lost to the trauma he has been unable to escape?
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15
Collections: Android Whump Reverse Big Bang





	Wild Violets and Unicorn Stickers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SeeWithMyOwnEyes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeeWithMyOwnEyes/gifts).



> This is not only the first Reverse Big Bang I have written, but the first Big Bang I have ever participated in. I truly enjoyed crafting Ralph's story to go along with the beautiful art piece by my AWRBB partner SeeWithMyOwnEyes. I hope you fall in love with this story as much as I did!

_ WR600, register your name. _

I see a man standing before me. And beside him are a woman and a young girl. A family. They are all smiling and it makes me smile. “Ralph,” the man says. 

“My name is Ralph,” I reply. It’s a good name and I think it suits me. 

The family brings me to their home. It is a beautiful farmhouse. Situated on a large plot of land down a long dirt road, it is much larger than the others we drove past when we left the city. Here there is a sprawling green lawn surrounding the house, with lush flowerbeds blooming in a riot of different colors bordering the wrap-around porch. I also glimpse a greenhouse as we pull around to where the garage is located in the back. I have a job to do here and I know exactly how to do it. I am eager to start. 

The father of the family, who introduced himself as Garrett, gives me a tour of the property while his wife Olivia takes their daughter Gracie inside the house for lunch. Garrett instructs me on how he prefers the lawn to be maintained and how short to prune the hedges. Then he shows me where the various gardening tools and lawn mower are stored in a shed beside the garage; I carefully catalog everything on my hard drive, making quick notes as we go to check the pH level of the soil and the area’s water table.

Before he is done with our tour, Garrett shows me the greenhouse. To say that I am impressed would be a vast understatement. Late afternoon sunlight streams through the glass walls and roof, saturating the lush greenery surrounding me in a golden glow. There's rows of ripening vegetables running down the middle - tomatoes, squash, zucchini and others - and lining the sides are various herbs, a handful of flowering orchids and roses, some pastel-toned succulents, and fragrant lavender. 

I glance at Garrett and smile. "It's beautiful."

Garrett beams with pride. "Thank you," he says. "I inherited this place nine months ago from my grandfather. He used to grow corn out here but his land got sold off little by little until just the farmhouse and the greenhouse were left. I remember spending the summers here as a kid. It was in pretty bad shape when we moved in, but I've been putting a lot of work into fixing it up as best I can. This greenhouse is kind of my way of keeping my grandfather's memory alive."

"Your hard work definitely shows. I'm happy to help you maintain it."

Garrett nods warmly. "I'm not normally one to ask for help and I never pictured myself owning an android, but the upkeep on it all is getting to be a little much and I wanted to be able to spend more time with my family. I'm glad to have you here."

“I’m ready to begin whenever you are,” I say with a nod of my own. 

My first week at the farmhouse goes fast. I perform my duties efficiently and with care. Garrett lends a hand occasionally but for the most part he leaves me to my work. Olivia and Gracie are very nice to me and we talk sometimes when I come inside to wash my hands in the kitchen at day's end. Gracie especially loves telling me about what new things she learned at school. It feels nice to be included. 

Another week passes much the same as the first. I am more observant, though, of how this little family unit operates. It's fascinating to see the intricacies of their interactions when I catch glimpses of them together during my daily duties. I see Garrett push Gracie on the tire swing in the backyard one morning before the school bus comes, then one evening at dusk I see Olivia braiding Gracie's hair on the front porch while Garrett sweeps the steps. And on one hot afternoon, I see Olivia bring Garrett a glass of lemonade and give him a kiss on his cheek while he is helping me pull weeds. I am captivated. But I find my favorite thing to see is the three of them having dinner together. I don't sit and stare but sometimes in the evening when I'm putting the hose or lawnmower away and the summer sun is sinking low and the gloaming fades into night I can see them through the back window that looks into the dining room. They sit at the table together and it looks so pure and real the way they smile and talk and laugh. It makes me want to be a part of what they have in an intense and confusing way that makes my chest ache. 

As the days go on, I know very well what this family means to each other. They care for one another. They  _ love _ one another. I wonder if it is something I will ever truly experience or even understand. I desperately want to. 

By the time a month rolls around, though, I notice that they begin to pull me in, little by little, and it surprises me. Now, when I go into the kitchen to wash my hands at the end of the day, Gracie almost always asks me to sit at the table and color with her while Olivia prepares dinner. And Garrett once let me help cook burgers on the grill for a backyard barbecue and he did not get mad at me when I accidentally burned two of them. Garrett has even made me a small room in the garage with a bed and a nightstand even though I technically don’t have to sleep. They treat me as more than an android and it’s a strange revelation to process. I feel like I am becoming a part of their family. And I never want to be apart from them. 

Summer slowly surrenders to the start of autumn in a gradual shift from sweltering days to rainy ones and from vibrant greens to striking reds and yellows. Gracie tells me it is her favorite season. The fall harvest soon comes and everyone decides to pitch in to help gather the ripened pumpkins, zucchini, squash, turnips, and carrots. It is an overcast day that threatens showers later in the afternoon so Garrett says he wants to get an early start. I meet the family in the greenhouse just after they eat breakfast. They are dressed in vests and boots and matching flannel shirts and my chest gets tight and I don’t know why. 

With so much help we get the job done pretty quickly. Olivia is happy with the amount of zucchini we grew and is excited to make enough zucchini bread to give to all the neighbors. Gracie, wiping the dirt from her hands on her jeans, sticks out her tongue at the mention of it and Garrett shakes his head and laughs. But then Gracie grins wide when Olivia says she'll make a special batch of pumpkin bread just for her. They all look so happy in this moment and I want to remember it forever. 

After loading up our harvest into wooden crates, the family heads inside to clean up and warm themselves with some hot cocoa. Since we got done earlier than I expected I have time to trim the hedges out front before the rain starts. I grab the shears and make my way to the front yard.  When I am almost finished with my task it starts sprinkling a little. The sky is darkening the late afternoon sky with the impending storm. I go a little faster, not minding being rained on but not wanting Garrett’s gardening tool to become rusted in the drizzling weather. 

Soon my hair becomes so wet with rain I have to flick the dripping strands out of my eyes so I can see what I am doing. I am nearly done, but just as I am reaching to prune the last few branches away, a bright flash of light instantly followed by a loud crack of thunder booms above me. 

The utter unexpectedness of it startles me and I flinch. The hand holding the shears jerks toward my outstretched arm and before I can react the sharp blades slice my forearm. It’s not a long gash but it looks like a deep one. I'm so stunned I am not even able to process what precise bio-components are compromised. I stare in shock as blue blood wells from the wound almost immediately. It tracks down my arm in thick rivulets mixing with the rain that is now coming down steadily. 

The sound of the front door opening draws me from the injury in a dazed sort of way. I look up slowly to see Garrett suddenly standing there. 

“You okay, Ralph? That lightning was pretty close.” Concern knits his brows together when his gaze drops to my arm. “Holy shit.”

Tears form at the corners of my eyes, catching me off guard. “I- I’m sorry — ,” I begin but Garrett cuts me off. 

“Come inside.” He rushes down the porch steps to where I’m standing in the rain. The garden shears are still gripped tightly in my hand and Garrett has to tug them from my grasp to get me to let go. He tosses them aside onto the wet grass and it surprises me.

I protest weakly. "The shears…"

"I don't care about those," he says, guiding me gingerly up the stairs to the door. He is genuinely worried about me. 

Pain suddenly registers like a hot flash then dims to a dull throb and I cradle my arm to my chest. Androids don't feel pain in the sense that humans do, I know that, but it's still a sharp perception of a malfunction. My body recognizes there is something wrong and the delicate receptors that were severed with the laceration pulse with a warning that  _ hurts _ . I hold my forearm a little closer and follow Garrett inside the house. 

“Olivia, I need some help here,” Garrett calls as we come to the kitchen. 

Olivia turns from the counter where she is putting mugs into the dishwasher. When she sees me her eyes go wide and she rushes toward us. “Oh my god, Ralph! What happened? Are you okay?”

“I cut myself. It was an accident.”

Garrett goes to the sink while Olivia stays with me. She reaches her hand up and gently pulls my arm away from my chest. I grimace but allow her to look at it. Her mouth turns down into a pout as she examines the injury. Garrett comes back with a towel and a small first aid kit and they both lead me to sit at the kitchen table. 

The bleeding has mostly stopped and is now only oozing a little. Olivia kneels down and tenderly wipes the residual blue from my skin and I hold as still as possible while she cleans the wound. Garrett stands beside me with his hand on my shoulder, watching as Olivia wraps a long bandage around my arm. 

“How are you feeling? Is that better?” Olivia looks up at me from where she is kneeling on the kitchen tiles. 

I give a weak nod. The pain is thankfully fading somewhat and I can now internally assess the damage with a diagnostic check. “I’ll need some repairs, but I can still bend my fingers and my wrist.” I attempt the move to show them but a sharp twinge limits the mobility. 

Garrett gives my shoulder a little squeeze. “Hey there, just take it easy for now, okay? As long as it’s not hurting you, let's worry about the repairs tomorrow. I don’t want you moving it unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

I glance up at him, confused. “But I still have work to do outside…”

Olivia shakes her head and stands. “Not for the rest of the day, you don’t. I’m going to get you some clean clothes to wear while I throw those in the wash.”

Looking down at my Cyberlife issued shirt, I see that there is a mess of blue blood smeared across it. I begin to try to tell her that it will evaporate in a few hours but she won’t have it. She orders me upstairs to the laundry room in a way that is both soft and yet brooking no argument and I do as I am told. 

This is a level of the house I have not been to before; I haven’t needed to. I can’t help but stare as I walk down the hallway at this little slice of domesticity. Bedrooms, a bathroom, an office, family pictures on the wall. I take it all in. 

Olivia stops at the small hallway accordion doors that hide the washer and dryer and she opens them up. She helps me shimmy out of my shirt, careful not to jostle my arm too much. Then she flips the shirt this way and that, looking for a tag with washing instructions. Upon not finding any, she shrugs and tosses it into the washer and starts the cycle. 

“I think Garrett might have a sweater in here that will fit you,” she says and digs through a hamper with big block letters saying ‘clean’ across it beside the dryer. Finding one, she raises it up, victorious. “Ha!” It’s a grey hoodie with an outline of a shark on it. We both grin.

Olivia helps me into the sweater. It’s a little big on me but it is very soft and comfortable and it smells like a field of wildflowers from the detergent she uses. The terrifying memory of my injury is fading further and further to the background with each passing minute with the care of this family.

We start back down the hallway. Gracie suddenly appears from one of the doorways, rubbing her eyes, her hair a sleep-mussed tangle. “Mommy?”

Olivia bends down to smooth down her hair and peck a kiss to her cheek. “Did you have a good nap?” She glances back at me over her shoulder with a smile. “This kid could sleep through anything, I swear.” 

“What happened?” Gracie asks.

“There was some thunder and lightning. You didn’t hear it?”

Gracie shakes her head then looks at me. “Hi, Ralph.” Her eyes drop to my arm. I didn’t realize I had been cradling it to my chest again -- A subconscious instinct to keep it immobile, I suppose. “Did you get hurt?”

“Yes, but it's starting to feel better now,” I reply. 

Olivia straightens back up. “We’re going to get him all fixed up tomorrow. Until then we’re going to take care of him, okay?”

Gracie’s small, worried face brightens up. “I’m going to get my stickers and coloring books! That always makes me feel better when I get sick!” And with that she dashes off back into her bedroom. 

Olivia chuckles and we head downstairs. In the living room, Garrett has started the fireplace going with a warm, inviting blaze. He puts a hockey game on the TV and welcomes me to sit on the couch, so I do. Olivia sits beside him with a bowl of popcorn and a blanket emblazoned with the Crimson Shark logo. Gracie soon comes bounding downstairs, her arms full of coloring books, her markers, and box of beads. She sits on the floor next to me and sets up her impromptu art station at the coffee table. 

The rain has really started up now, accompanied by occasional gusts of wind that batter the side of the house. But in the cozy room with the roar of the fire, Garrett and Olivia cheering for their favorite hockey team, and Gracie busy digging through her beads, it fades to the background. I find I’m smiling and can’t seem to stop. I catalog this moment on my memory drive so that I hopefully never lose it. 

Suddenly, Gracie turns toward me with a sheet of sparkly unicorn stickers. She has a very serious expression on her face. “Can I put some of these where you were hurt? It will help you feel better, I promise.” 

“Yes, please.” I pull up the sleeve on my sweater to look at the gauze on my arm. There’s only a little blue that has soaked through and the pain is almost nonexistent now. I still can’t move my fingers very much though. 

Soon my bandage is covered in a smattering of unicorns that catch the light from the fire in a mesmerizing way. Gracie then grabs a green marker for her finishing touches. I watch as she writes  _ get well soon _ down one side and draws scrolling vines and flowers on the other. I am filled with such a sense of belonging I can barely function. 

During one of the intermissions in the hockey game, Garrett gets up to make more popcorn. He asks me how I’m doing.

I glance down at my colorfully decorated arm and smile. “Much better,” I say, my voice cracking. 

As the stormy late afternoon gives way to a cool autumn evening, the hockey game ends, and the fire begins to die down, Garrett and Olivia go to the kitchen to start dinner. I stand up from the couch, ready to head back to my room in the garage. 

Gracie tugs at my sweater and I stop. “I made this for you.” She holds up a bracelet made from her rainbow pony beads. Some of the beads have letters. It spells out  _ best friends _ . 

“For me?” No one has ever made anything like this for me before. 

“Yup! And I have one too!” She shows me how the two bracelets match then puts the one she made me on my wrist and the other on her own. She is very proud of her craftsmanship. 

“I’ll keep it with me always” I promise her. 

Pleased, she skips to the kitchen. I follow, making my way to the back door next to the dining room that leads to the yard. Olivia sees me about to head out and tells me to hold on just a moment because my shirt is just getting done from the dryer. She gets it from the laundry room and presents it, newly cleaned and neatly folded. 

“We can get you changed back into your uniform tomorrow before we send for your repair parts,” she says. “You can keep the sweater for now.”

Garrett looks over from the stove where he is stirring something in a pot and says, “I’ll call Cyberlife first thing in the morning and you’ll be good as new. Don’t worry about any chores until you’re all fixed up though, okay? I don’t want you hurting yourself anymore.” He smiles warmly and I nod and return the smile. 

After saying goodnight to everyone, I walk out of the house to the cool backyard. The storm has passed and the moon shines down on me in a soft silver glow from the now cloudless sky. I look at my bracelet in the muted light and turn it round and round my wrist. I have never had a best friend before, much less a family, and now truly feel I have both. 

Sitting on my bed in my little room in the garage, I stare at my bracelet and my bandaged arm, thinking about the events of the day with a fondness I have never known. I hope tomorrow brings more of the same. 

The morning dawns grey and dreary with not even enough sun poking through the clouds to brighten the fiery autumn colors of the falling leaves. I do as Garrett told me the night before and I do not do any gardening. Besides, with the damage, my arm is still not functional enough to move it much. I am able to shimmy out of the hoodie Olivia gave me and slide into my uniform shirt, though. It is quite the task, but I manage. 

I fold the sweater and start bringing it to the house when I see a Cyberlife van pulling up in the driveway. I know it's because Garrett called them so they can repair me, but the sight of it makes me feel uneasy in a way I can't explain. 

I continue toward the house, my stride a little slower than when I left the garage. Before I get to the backdoor Garrett is coming out to meet me.

“Ralph, Cyberlife is here. They’re going to get you all back in working order. Let’s head over to the van, okay?”

I nod and hand him the sweater then head around the side of the house to where the van is parked. Garrett follows along beside me. The door on the side opens when we stop next to it. A man steps out wearing an official Cyberlife uniform and a baseball cap. Inside the van I can see various tools and supplies on a workbench as well as a few monitor screens. 

“Hi, I’m Ben. Mr. Baker?” 

“Yup, that’s me,” Garrett replies. The two shake hands. 

“And this is your WR600 unit?” Ben turns his attention to me. 

Garrett and I both nod. “I’m Ralph.” I find I’m fidgeting with the beaded bracelet on my wrist and I force my arms down to my sides. 

“Let’s take a look at the damaged component and I’ll see what I can do.” Ben’s voice is warm and reassuring.

I present my arm with the bandage and sparkly unicorn stickers. Ben looks a little surprised and chuckles. “Can I take this off?” 

I hesitate for a moment, but then give him the go ahead and he unwraps the bandage carefully. He examines the wound with a gentle touch then scans it with some kind of hand-held device. After looking at the readout on the device’s screen he glances up and scratches his chin. He looks perplexed. He rummages around in the van for a minute then turns back around. 

“I’m not sure I have the parts on hand to repair him here.” 

“Well, what does that mean?” Garrett asks. I’m fidgeting with the bracelet again. 

“I’ll have to take him into town to the central warehouse hub we have there.” Ben shrugs. “It looks like he’ll need a full below-the-elbow swap.” 

“Garrett, I am so sorry. This is all my fault.” 

“It’s going to be okay, Ralph. It was just an accident.” He pats my shoulder. “How long do you think he’ll be gone, Ben?”

“Shouldn’t take more than a day or two, depending on how many others are scheduled for repairs ahead of him.”

Garrett and Ben finalize the necessary paperwork. I stand awkwardly, not sure how to feel about what is happening. This has been my first and only home for the past six months. I have found a family here. And although I know I’ll only be gone a couple days, like Ben says, I am nervous about leaving. 

“I’ll go get Gracie. I know she’ll want to say goodbye.” Garrett trots off to the house and I watch him go, glad that at least I’ll be able to do that. 

Ben closes up his van then hops in the front seat. Just a few short seconds later, Gracie and Olivia come out to see me. Gracie runs right up to me and hugs me around my waist, knocking me back a step. My chest does that thing again where it aches in the middle. 

“Ralph, you’re leaving?”

I hug her back, tentatively, not sure if I’m doing it right. “Only for a few days. I’ll be back soon,” I say, and I hope it’s the truth. 

Gracie sighs and steps back. She lifts up her arm and shakes her bracelet. I smile and shake mine. Olivia puts her hand on Gracie’s back. “We’ll see him again in no time.”

And with that, I get in the van and head to the city with Ben. The already dreary day darkens even more the closer we get and I can’t tell if it’s my mood or if it’s because another storm is brewing.

Ben pulls the van into the central warehouse hub he had mentioned earlier. It’s surrounded by a forest of skyscrapers, some so tall the tops are hidden by slate colored clouds. Inside, I am directed to a big room full of various other androids. Some are milling around aimlessly, others are sitting in chairs, and still others are sitting on the floor. Most of them look like they are in a lot worse shape than me and my heart sinks. I hope that the minimal severity of my injury will not put me at the end of the list; I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary. I want to go home. 

I sit in an empty chair in a corner away from everyone and look at my bracelet. After a while I realize I have lost track of time. How long have I been here? My internal clock registers that it has been twelve hours and nine minutes since I left the farmhouse. I am beginning to lose hope that I will be going back in only a day or two. 

Another hour later, someone finally calls my name and I walk to a door at the front of the room. A woman is standing there with a holo-board and I instinctively slip my bracelet from my wrist and tuck it away into my pocket. I don’t want anything happening to it. After registering my name and serial number the woman leads me back to  _ another  _ holding area. This one is larger, with cots and chairs and more injured androids wandering around. 

“How much longer do you think it will be?” I ask the woman. She shrugs, clearly not caring one way or another. My shoulders droop and I go to find a place to sit. 

Time drags on and after being here for two days I move to an empty cot at the back of the room and lay on my side. What is taking so long? I miss Gracie and Olivia and Garrett so much it hurts. I wonder if they miss me. I wonder if they are worried about me. I curl up and look at my bracelet for probably the hundredth time since I've been here. 

A week passes. My name is finally called. I sit up in a daze, slipping Gracie’s best friends token back into my pocket, and shuffle to the door. I am led to a workshop area then seated on a medical type chair that is reclined next to a workbench. There is an armrest extended out to the side of the chair. Soon after, an MC500 model android wearing a black apron comes and sits on a rolling chair beside me. 

“Please present the defective limb.” 

I do as I am asked and set my arm down on the table under a work light. “Will I be able to go home after this?” 

The MC500 does not answer me. Instead he says, “I am going to place you on standby mode while I replace this part for a new one.”

And with that my world goes dark. 

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is my arm — brand new and fully functional. I move my fingers and wrist and have full range of motion again. I cannot wait to get back into the greenhouse to pull up the last of the season’s harvest. 

But then I look up and remember I am not at home. A welling of sadness fills me as I see my surroundings. I am in a different room than all the ones before; it appears to be a sort of recovery room. There aren’t many other androids here with me, but there is an open door that leads to a small office. A man is sitting at the desk, typing away on a computer. 

I quickly get up, walk to him, and stand in the doorway. He glances up at me briefly before going back to his work. 

“It appears I am repaired,” I say with a timid smile. “I am ready to go back to work now at the Baker’s farmhouse.”

The man looks at me again and sighs. “Serial number?”

I tell him.

“Says here you’re to report to the Lafayette Central Park management building.” 

I frown. “No, that’s not right. I belong with Garrett and Olivia Baker.” I am beginning to panic. 

The man shakes his head. “The info is right here, buddy.  _ Lafayette. _ There’s been a rash of gardening droids going missing all around town so they probably reassigned you.”

“No, that is not  _ right! _ ” I raise my voice. It’s the first time I have done that. A software instability warning flashes across my CPU, but I ignore it. “I belong to a family, not the city parks department!”

The man is taken aback then he narrows his eyes and leans toward me. “I don’t get paid enough to deal with this bullshit. It says right here, okay? I don’t make the rules, I just read out what gets sent to me. All I know is, if you aren’t on the transport that takes you to your assignment in one hour, you’ll be decommissioned.”

Dread, heavy and awful, settles deep in my stomach. “W-what?” The word barely squeaks past my lips. 

The man points to a closed entryway at the opposite side of the room that says ‘loading dock’ on it. “The transport is through that door. If you aren’t on it within the hour, you’ll wish you were.”

“But what about my family?”

“They’ll probably get reimbursed by the city or something. I don’t know, pal. Sorry.” He sits back in his chair and closes the door in my face.

My hand immediately goes into my pocket and I squeeze my bracelet almost as hard as I can. I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to fix this situation. I’m lost, alone, and terrified.

Turning away from the door, I face the loading dock entry. If I get on the transport will my family come looking for me? How will they even know where to find me? What if I make a run for it? Could I make it back to the safety of my home? If I am caught I know I will be shut down permanently — That terrifying thought alone forces my feet to start trudging toward my fate. 

I am halfway across the room. Then three-quarters. Then I stop. I know if I go through those doors everything will change. 

But maybe it already has.

I look down at my arm. An unbearable wave of sadness pummels me. This happened because of me. This was all my fault. Will Gracie ever forgive me? I told her I would be back soon. Tears start tracking down my cheeks before I can blink them back. I scrub them away with the heels of my hands. 

With no other choice, I go through the loading dock doors and get on my assigned transport. 

I have been in Lafayette Central Park for two weeks now and I have been miserable every single second. The management building is more of a small groundskeeper hut where they store the lawn maintenance tools and it is where I am told to stay after hours when the park closes. It’s not even close to the cozy room Garrett built for me in the garage. 

The first few days here I cried every night. But when it really hit me that I would most likely not be going back home, my heartache was overtaken by anger. I should not be here. There is no joy or sense of belonging for me here. I rake leaves, I empty the park trash, and no one ever talks to me or asks me how I am. I don’t get to watch things grow or harvest the fruit of my labor with the people I love. 

I have tried leaving a handful of times but I don’t get very far. My fear of being caught and shut down stops me in my tracks before I hardly get a block away from the park. And I wouldn’t even know  _ how  _ to get back to the farmhouse if I had the courage to commit to an escape plan. With each failed attempt I become more sullen and withdrawn. I miss my family.

One night I am sitting on the concrete floor in the management building with my back leaned up against the wall and my knees drawn to my chest. I am staring at my bracelet, spinning it slowly through my fingers like a rosary. I pull it out less and less these days. I know if I was braver I could have gone back home by now. But at the same time I wonder why haven’t they come looking for me? 

Before I can wallow much more in my own self-pity I hear a noise outside. There have been racoons getting into the trash cans lately, but it didn’t quite sound like that. I stand quickly, tucking my bracelet into my pocket, and peer out a small window in the door. A shadow moves past too fast for me to make out. A moment later it is followed by two more. The glow from a near-by street light illuminates the corner of one of the shadows just for a second, but I can see now what it is. Teenagers wearing dark clothes, carrying what looks like spray paint. This is probably the same group that has been vandalizing the park since I got here. I have had to clean up their messes, repair the benches they have set on fire, and scrub off the tags they have left behind more times than I want to count. And now I’ll finally catch them in the act. 

Grabbing a heavy-duty flashlight from a shelf, I stomp out the door in the direction the shadows went. My patience has worn down while my software stability has risen. I have had  _ enough. _

With the amount of noise they make, it is easy to find them, even in dark pre-dawn hours. There are three teenage boys huddled around a trash can near the playground, laughing maliciously. I click my flashlight on, thinking it will just frighten them away and I can chase them off. 

“This park is closed! It's after hours!” I shout, trying to sound imposing. 

The boys turn around and I see right away that they are bigger and older than I first thought. A bright flare of alarm pulses through me. One is grasping a handheld electric blow torch and grinning menacingly. There is no doubt they were about to light the trashcan on fire… but now their attention is solely on me. 

They stare at me in the pale beam of my flashlight, waiting to pounce on the slightest misstep. I can’t back down now. I take one shaky step forward. “You are trespassing. I am ordering you to leave now.”

“We’re not going anywhere, gearbox.” A voice comes up behind me, startling me so badly I almost drop my flashlight. Spinning on my heel, I try to face the person the voice belongs to, but my feet are suddenly kicked out from under me. 

I land flat on my back and my flashlight flies from my hand. The group descends on me instantly like a pack of wolves. Two pin my arms down to the ground and another restrains my legs. I struggle as hard as I can, but my terror makes me clumsy; it’s like I’m treading water. 

“Let me go!" I shout. I get a kick in the side in response. A sharp ache blooms across my chest. “Please, don’t! I’ll leave, I promise. Please, just let me go!” I continue to thrash about, but it’s no use. They only hold me tighter. 

One of the kids kneels down and straddles my chest. The others chuckle. The weight of him pressing me into the hard concrete path fills me with a dread I’ve never known. He stares down at me, face vicious and sinister. He holds a hand out and one of the kids slaps the blow torch onto his palm. The grin this produces is staggering in its cruelty.

“Please,” I whimper. “I just want to go home.” Tears are beginning to blur my vision. 

The kid grabs me by the chin,  _ hard.  _ “I’d like to go home, too, you fuckin’ skinjob, but guess what? I  _ can’t  _ because my dad lost his job  _ and  _ our house because of freaks like you!” 

I try shaking my head but he’s holding my chin so tightly it hurts. I am almost nearly paralyzed with fear. “I’m sorry,” I cry. “I didn’t —”

He pulls my head up a little then cracks it back down to the ground. Pain sears through my skull. “ _ And then _ I’m just trying to have a little fun with my friends on a nice October night and you come along and ruin it! Isn’t that right, guys?”

The kids jeer their agreement loudly. Panic is settling deep inside me. Software instability alarms are flashing insistently in time to the pain pulsing at the back of my head and side. I shouldn’t be here. I should be home with Gracie and Olivia and Garrett. I should be with my family. 

“Someone! Someone, please help!” I shriek. But I know it’s useless. No one is here to rescue me. I am utterly alone. 

“Shut up!” The kid lets go of my chin long enough to lay down a ringing slap across the side of my face. I can feel a warm gush of blue blood track down my mouth from my nose. Momentarily stunned, I think about when I cut my arm during the storm and it seems like a lifetime ago. Garret and Olivia took me in, bandaged me up, soothed my hurt away. Gracie made me a bracelet.  _ Best friends. _

“Gracie,” I whimper. 

“I said shut up, gearbox.” There is a small click as the blowtorch is primed. 

My face is again grabbed roughly then jerked to the side. And the next sensation I feel reduces my world down to the exquisite agony of a flame scorching my skin. The fire gouges deep fissures to my cheek and brow. All I can do is scream. Hundreds of system malfunctions blast inside my head and my software instability reaches critical mass. 

I struggle again under the weight of the bodies holding me down, fighting for my life. That earns me a bash upside the jaw and another to the temple with the heavy butt of the torch — at least there is reprieve from the flame. The relief is short-lived though, because the fire starts up again almost immediately. 

Pain is coursing through every part of me and I know, with a sudden and vivid clarity, that if I do not escape right now I am not going to survive this night. Through the haze of my pain and fear, I see a red wall blocking my way to freedom. I put my hands up to it and I smash it as hard I can over and over. It gives a way a little each time my fists collide with it. Tearing down this wall is one of the hardest and most vital things I have ever done. But it comes with a price, because once I do this I know I will never be the same again. 

With one more violent shove, the red wall finally gives way. 

_ Deviant. _

The raw liberation Ralph is met with is dazzling and gives him the last bit of strength he needs to get away from the people who are hurting him. With a desperate roar, Ralph pulls his arms from the two bad men at his sides and punches the face of the bad man on top of him. In just a matter of seconds Ralph is rolling onto his knees then getting up, then running. Ralph needs to run as fast and as far away from the people hurting him as he can.

Ralph can hear shouting behind him, angry shouting, but he does not stop, no. Tears are streaming down his face along with his own blood and he cannot see out of one eye, but still he does not stop. Pain throbs through him everywhere but he keeps going.  _ rA9.  _ He needs to find somewhere  _ safe _ . 

A few blocks from the park the shouts behind him start to fade away. He still runs. A group of people walking down the sidewalk suddenly appear in front of Ralph. He skids to a stop then cuts to an alleyway at his right. He can’t trust anyone. They might want to hurt Ralph, too. 

Dirty rain puddles soak Ralph’s shoes as he trudges quickly through the alley. Hanging from some broken scaffolding, Ralph sees a big black tarp. He wraps it around his shoulders — it will help him blend in, make Ralph harder to notice. 

Safe, Ralph needs to find somewhere safe, somewhere to hide.  _ rA9.  _ After turning at the end of the narrow alley Ralph sees it. A boarded-up house with a fence around it. There are no lights on and no people to be seen. It’s a safe place for Ralph. 

He runs across the street, keeping an eye out for anyone that might grab him. Ralph is scared, so scared, but he looks at the fence around the building and finally finds a place to squeeze in. It’s a tight fit, but Ralph pushes through. His forward momentum, though, knocks off his balance and he lands on his hands and knees in the mud. Ralph’s tears can no longer be held back to a few stray drops. It’s like a dam bursting. Ralph weeps openly, hurt and sad and afraid. He knows he misses someone but he can’t exactly remember who; there’s an empty longing ache in his chest he can’t explain and he weeps for that too. Ralph doesn’t want to be alone like this. 

Eventually Ralph stands up and stumbles toward the ramshackle house. The door is unlocked and that makes Ralph wary. But he has nowhere else to go and the sun will be up soon. Ralph walks inside cautiously. He stops just over the threshold, listening carefully. There is no sound to be heard except a few creaks and groans from the house itself — it’s empty. 

The first thing Ralph does is find a safe room in the house to hole up in, at least until it is light outside.  _ rA9 rA9.  _ After quickly scanning the first level, he decides he’d better check upstairs. There is a room on the left just at the top of the stairs that has a small closet. Ralph has found the perfect spot and looks no further. He climbs in and squeezes down as small as he can, closing the little door and blocking out the rest of the world. Ralph doesn’t think he’ll leave here, ever. He never wants to see another person for as long as he lives. 

In a few hours, morning sunlight begins streaming through the tiny crack between the two closet doors. Ralph looks up slowly. He spent the whole rest of the night trying to keep his mind blank, trying to forget what those nasty men did to him. But it’s hard for Ralph to forget. His side still aches and his face is awash in agony. He can’t forget when his pain is a constant reminder. 

Staying in the dark closet is making it too easy for those memories to keep replaying over and over, Ralph decides. Opening the doors slowly, he stops and listens. The house is still empty, much to his relief. He pushes to his feet and lets out a soft moan. His whole body feels stiff and uncoordinated. It is not a pleasant feeling at all. 

Absentmindedly, Ralph slips his hand in his pocket as he stands in the nearly empty room, trying to decide what he should do next. There is something in there. He fishes it out and holds it up to see. It’s a bracelet with beads on it. It says  _ best friends _ . Ralph gets a funny feeling in his chest, but he can’t quite understand why.  _ rA9.  _ He puts the bracelet back in his pocket reverently.  __

There is another bedroom on this level of the house as well as a bathroom. Ralph goes into the bathroom and catches a glimpse of his face in the mirror. He almost doesn’t recognize himself. It kind of makes him want to start crying again. He has no one here to help clean him up, to help fix these wounds. Someone had before, Ralph is sure of it.  _ rA9. _ But now Ralph is alone.

Ralph wets a rag in the sink to at least wash his face of the blood caked down his lips and chin. There is nothing more he can do for the deep gashes carved down the side of his face or for his blinded eye, though. He is broken beyond repair. A bitter anger wells up inside him at the people who did this to him, at the people who hurt him this way for no reason at all. He makes a promise to himself that no one will hurt Ralph, ever again. Readjusting his handmade poncho, Ralph turns away from the mirror  _ rA9 rA9 rA9 r..A…9 _

The next couple weeks pass by in a blur for Ralph. His fear and mistrust never quite leave him. He finds a little comfort in carving  _ rA9  _ into the walls in the kitchen. It’s a compulsion he cannot explain, only that it feels good to do it. And so he does. Over and over and over. He is so lonely. He has the barest glimpse of a happier time with a family that loved him. A mother and a father and a best friend. Someone to take care of, someone to take care of him. But it is a fractured memory. One Ralph is certain isn’t even real. Because if it  _ was  _ real then why is he here? Why was he hurt? Why is he going through this all alone?  _ Why? _

Ralph rarely ever leaves the house and he has never left the safety of the gate around the property. It is much too dangerous to venture out there where someone might try to hurt Ralph again. But one night, when he is walking by a window that has been partially boarded up, he sees a flash of green outside. He stops and takes a closer look out the window. There in mud is a small little plant standing proud in the light of a moon beam. The sight of it fills Ralph with a joy he hasn’t felt in so long. He rushes to the kitchen to grab a cup and a spoon then cautiously, oh so cautiously, Ralph unlocks the door. He creeps out to the dirt yard, hypervigilant, afraid. But he makes quick yet meticulous work of scooping up the plant, a wild violet that has yet to flower, and bringing it into the house. He is a gardener afterall. It’s in Ralph’s nature to care for such things and it feels like it has been too long since he has done so. The tender shoot, not much more than a weed, comes to live with him in the kitchen and keeps him company from then on. 

Sometimes humans try to come into Ralph’s house, even though he has locked every door he can. There have been two or three that have gotten in. Ralph is too afraid of them. He tucks away in a special hiding spot upstairs until they leave. He does not make a sound and keeps a knife he found close to his chest to protect himself if they do find him. Ralph does not like visitors. 

One time, though, a visitor comes in and does not leave. It makes Ralph mad, very mad. He can’t control himself. He pictures the people who hurt him in the park. The way they laughed at Ralph, the way they  _ tormented _ him. Ralph can’t bear it anymore. His fear-driven rage takes over and he attacks the man. The man is so surprised he doesn’t even fight back. It is all over quickly and suddenly there is a dead person on the floor of the upstairs bedroom.  _ rA9 _ . Ralph cannot believe what he has done. His hands shake as he drags the man into the tub and closes the shower curtain. He can’t put the man outside because then more visitors may come and see what Ralph has done. And then they will surely hurt Ralph again or possibly shut him down. Ralph simply cannot and will not allow this to happen. 

The next visitors Ralph gets are not like the others. They are nice to Ralph and talk to him, even though they scared him very badly at first. Having them in his house is like having a family — a father, a mother, and a little girl. It triggers the shadow of a memory for Ralph and he looks at the bracelet in his pocket a lot while they are there. It’s like a word is right on the tip of his tongue but when he thinks about it too hard it slips away.  _ I made this for you! I have one too!  _ They spend the night and Ralph keeps his promise and does not hurt them. It is so nice not to be lonely or afraid for once. 

In the morning, the visitors are still there and Ralph decides he will be a good friend and make the little girl a meal. He even ventures outside during the day to find the perfect food. It is a risky move for him, going out there when the sun is up but he knows his new friend should have something to eat. At last he finds it, a big, juicy, succulent rat near the back of the house. Ralph makes quick work of killing it, then excitedly runs back inside to cook it up. 

The little girl seems afraid of Ralph and he does not know why. He is just trying to be  _ nice. _ The android that is like him but not like him comes downstairs and she seems afraid of Ralph too. He has done nothing wrong! Ralph just wants to have a family like he remembers from before. Ralph had a family before, right? He is still not sure, but it sounds so nice. 

They finally agree to sit at the table and that makes Ralph very happy. “The little human is not gonna regret it! Ralph found the best! The biggest one he could find! This is going to be succulent!  _ Succulent _ !” Ralph can hardly contain his excitement.

He puts the rat in the fire, burns the meat just how he knows humans like. Ralph is not sure  _ how _ he knows they like it that way but a small inkling of a memory tells him this is right.  _ Burnt burgers on the grill.  _ He throws it down on the table, charred and still smoking. 

“Go ahead! Eat!” The little girl just stares at him and the food he has prepared. He has been nothing but nice to them and it is making him angry that they are being so impolite after all the trouble Ralph went through. His temper is flaring again.  _ rA9 _ . “Eat!” he shouts, banging his fists down. Both of his guests flinch and it makes Ralph feel bad for a moment. 

Kara, the android sitting across from Ralph, suddenly speaks up and he looks at her. “I saw that body upstairs. You killed that human, didn’t you?” Ralph can see she is upset.

Panic settles deep inside him. He should have done a better job of hiding what he has done. “No,” he replies. “No, he was like that when Ralph found him.”

She doesn’t believe him of course. “You killed that man, Ralph. There’s no point in lying. You hate humans, but you’re just like them. You’re a murderer!”

Ralph shakes his head, but he can’t deny what he did that day. There are so many emotions bubbling up inside Ralph, he can hardly process everything that is happening to him.

His fingers tremble over the knife in his hand. “Ralph didn’t mean any harm!” Ralph’s voice breaks. He's on the verge of crying again. “It’s just that Ralph can’t control his anger, when his anger comes. Ralph doesn’t know what he’s doing. He becomes stupid, full of hatred. Ralph is sorry. He just wanted to be your friend.” He is always so lonely and scared and sad and he does not want these feelings anymore. Ralph wants to go  _ home,  _ but he still doesn’t know where or what that is.

“Then let us go,” Kara says softly.

Ralph looks down at his hands. He doesn’t want his new family to leave, but he knows they can’t stay. He is about to tell them goodbye, but there is a sudden knock on the door. Everyone at the table jumps. Ralph is afraid, very afraid.

“Who is here?” he whispers. 

“I saw police outside earlier," Kara admits, frightened. "Alice and I need to hide. Please, Ralph, help us.”

Ralph surges to his feet, terrified. But his new friends need him, they trust him. And so Ralph helps them the best he can. Ralph crowds them under the stairs and covers them up. He has hidden there a few times himself.  _ rA9.  _ He has just enough time to scurry back to the middle of the room before the door is being opened. Ralph is so  _ stupid _ for not remembering to lock it after he came back in with the dead animal. 

An android detective comes in and questions Ralph. Ralph is very nervous but he does a good job of lying to protect his friends. But then the detective gets too close, much too close, to finding them in their hiding spot. He needs to help them. Ralph jumps on the detective, grabs him as tight as he can. He will not let his friends be hurt the way he was

“Run! Quick, Kara!” Ralph shoves the detective down and gives them just enough time to escape. Ralph feels so proud of himself that for a moment he is not afraid. 

It is not long, though, before the rest of the police officers that were with the detective come in and start searching the house. Ralph tries to flee before they find what he did upstairs, but the humans capture him. His terror comes flooding back all at once. It feels like the night in the park all over again. 

Ralph is thrown into a transport truck. The police tell him he is being sent to a processing facility, but Ralph does not know what that means. 

“Please, promise you will not hurt Ralph!” he shouts as they close the door to the truck. No one gives him an answer. 

After finally arriving at the processing facility later that day, Ralph is forced into a big room with a lot of other androids. It brings a memory to the surface of a place he had been to before. Before what, though? When he had been hurt  _ before _ , but it wasn’t his face. It was something else. Ralph looks down at his arm. There is no wound or scarring there. Ralph thinks he hurt himself accidentally once. He fleetingly remembers unicorn stickers. This only confuses him more.

Ralph hates this processing center. There is nowhere for Ralph to hide here. He feels too vulnerable. He wants to go  _ home.  _ But not even the house he was taken from. His real home, with his real family.  _ Best friends. _

The stay at the processing center lasts about a week. Through a window, Ralph can see that it has begun snowing outside. He wonders what has become of the wild violet he replanted in the kitchen. Just the thought of it makes him want to cry, because he knows his plant is alone now just like him. 

The androids at the center are starting to be separated into groups. Ralph is labeled as ‘deviant’ and ‘unstable’ and this makes him afraid.  _ rA9. _ He does not know what will happen to him now that he has been tagged with these words. It is not something he has to wonder about for long, though. Ralph is shoved onto another transport truck and this time he ends up in a place called the Recall Facility and if anything, Ralph hates this more than the processing center. 

It is open air with fences all around and scary guards with guns that could hurt Ralph. After being forced from the transport, Ralph is led into a room with all the other androids he had traveled with. The guards begin to strip everyone down, but Ralph fights back. He doesn’t care about the clothes, but he wants to keep his bracelet. He  _ needs  _ to! It is the only thing tying him to a family he is positive he once had. 

Ralph is knocked in the head then punched in the gut for resisting. And for all that they still take his uniform and poncho and force him to his default skin. But Ralph is sneaky and he was able to get his bracelet from his pocket before they discard his clothing. He keeps it tightly concealed in a fist, vowing to himself he will never let it go. 

In the pen outside, Ralph mills around with the other androids. He is becoming more and more afraid. It is dark now and snow is falling all around. He can hear shouting and gunfire in the different fenced areas surrounding him. He is not sure he will survive this camp and this uncertainty terrifies him.  _ rA9 rA9. _ He will almost certainly be killed here, forgotten and alone. 

_ Farmhouse!  _ The sudden thought flashes in Ralph’s mind. He does not know if it is from being hit in the head just now or if it is because he is actually starting to remember his past, but he holds on to this little morsel as tightly as he can.  _ A farmhouse! I used to live where there was a farmhouse! _ Ralph thinks that maybe,  _ maybe,  _ if he can remember those happier times, those times before he was hurt so badly, that he won’t be so afraid when his time comes up. He tries to focus on what the farmhouse looked like and who lived there, trying desperately to get his brain to give him just a little more to go on. 

Ralph is so concentrated on his task that he doesn’t realize someone is talking to him until he feels a hand on his shoulder. Ralph is snapped out of his introspection and it makes him mad. He was so close to getting his lost memories back. 

He looks down to see Kara standing before him. He is not sure why he is suddenly so upset to see her here. Ralph thinks it is probably because he went through so much to save her and the little girl and now here she is anyway, captured just like he is. 

Kara asks Ralph if he has seen the little girl she was with, but no, no Ralph has not seen her. He only just got here. But she must be here somewhere, if Kara is here. “Obviously the little girl is a prisoner here, just like Ralph. But Ralph doesn’t want to die.” Ralph’s fear is rising again, pushing him nearly out of control like it has before.  _ rA9. _ He squeezes the bracelet held tight in his hand. 

A drone appears above their heads and scares Ralph. He has seen the drone kill androids. Ralph hates this place. He wants to leave. Panic is gripping him, he can’t stop it. 

But then Kara helps Ralph. She talks to him and calms him down. Ralph quiets his voice, tries not to be upset. Finally the drone leaves. Kara leaves Ralph too, but he feels a little better knowing she is here, knowing that he at least has a friend in this awful place. 

Soon the guards force all the androids into straight lines. They are putting them into boxes that no one comes out of alive. Ralph is frantically trying to remember more about the farmhouse. He had a room in a garage, he thinks. And there was a greenhouse! Ralph takes another step closer to the box. Think, Ralph, think!

Kara’s voice suddenly pops up in Ralph’s head. He looks over at her across the snowy yard where she is also standing in a line. He sees she has found the little girl and this makes Ralph happy, but only for a moment. Because of course they are  _ all _ being led to the box now, even the little girl.  _ rrrAA9. _ Ralph knows he does not want to die, but the little girl reminds him of someone he knew (the name is so close in his mind if he could just  _ remember)  _ and he does not want her to die either. 

“Ralph will help you escape,” he says. He understands very well that it is most likely at the expense of his own life. “You only have to ask and Ralph will help you.”

“They’ll kill you if you try anything.” Kara sounds afraid and Ralph knows how that feels. 

But Ralph doesn’t feel as scared now as he was before. He knows that no matter what happens, it is for a reason. And if the little girl has a chance to be safe, then Ralph is willing to give the ultimate sacrifice for her. Just like he would have done for the family he had before. 

“Ralph knows that. But if the little girl is free, it’s a little bit like everyone else was free. Ralph isn’t scared. The little girl’s life is more important.” Ralph glances at Kara, meeting her eyes just for a moment. “Take good care of the little girl. Ralph wants you both to be happy.”

He feels more at peace now than he has for the last few weeks. He is not afraid anymore. It is as though a weight has been lifted from Ralph’s shoulders. All the fear and anger and unbearable heartache has finally,  _ mercifully,  _ vanished. So when he sees Kara and the little girl make a run for the fence, he does not hesitate.

Breaking out into a sprint, Ralph tackles the guard who was about to shoot Kara. They land in the snow with a heavy thud. Before the guard can pull his gun up, Ralph begins bashing him as hard as he can with powerful fists. He will not let anyone hurt his friends! He will not allow it anymore!

The guard has finally stopped moving beneath Ralph’s hands. A quick glance over his shoulder confirms to Ralph that Kara has escaped. Relief washes over him as he rolls off the guard. All around him, the other androids that had been waiting in line for their fate have suddenly rallied to fight back. The guards that had been in the pen are suddenly being mobbed from every angle. None of them ever stood a chance. It gives Ralph a swelling of pride to see it. 

Ralph slowly gains his feet. He looks down to his hand, then opens his bloodied, trembling fist. The bracelet is still there. A couple beads are broken, but it is mostly intact. He stares at it as the ruckus wages on around him. And then, like a lightning bolt, it hits him. All of it, everything. The past half year comes flooding back to him in a shattering, overwhelming rush. Ralph staggers back a step. The farmhouse, the greenhouse, Garrett, Olivia,  _ Gracie _ . 

_ My family.  _

Tears well in my eyes and I double forward to brace my hands on my knees. I have been through a literal hell I was not sure I would survive and now I finally know where I belong. The clarity is stunning. It's like finally kicking to the surface of a lake after being submerged in its murky and disorienting waters for far too long. I need to get back. I need to find them again. It's the only thing that matters. 

Stumbling to the back of the pen, I find a hole in the razor wire fence, then slip out unnoticed amongst the commotion. I make my way to an empty road about a half mile away and travel along the slushy, snow-driven shoulder on feet as light as air. For the first time in a long time, I have hope. 

My heart feels so wonderfully liberated, I am not even bothered by headlights approaching me up the snowy, dark street. I feel no fear, no apprehension. I have a mission and nothing will stray me from the path. 

The vehicle slows to a stop beside me and the widow rolls down. "Hey, sweetie," the driver calls to me. "My name is Rose. Do you need help or a ride somewhere?"

The kindness in her face is endlessly reassuring. "I- I would love a ride," I reply eagerly.

After climbing into her vehicle, we get to know each other. With Rose's gentle coaxing I tell her my story. I want to leave out all the pain and fear and cruelty I experienced, but it comes spilling out of me before I can stop it. Coming to terms with my regained memory but also recognizing the rage I harbored during those dark times when I was just trying to survive is one of the hardest things I've ever done; realizing it will be an ongoing process is even harder. 

As we drive, I give Rose as much information about the Baker’s farmhouse as I can. She lights up immediately and says she knows exactly who I am talking about. The Bakers live only a few miles from her and her son. The utter elation I feel is nearly indescribable. I am one step closer to my family. 

Rose makes a quick stop on our journey to find some new clothes for me; jeans, a soft Henley, and a warm jacket. Not much longer after that, dressed and in my natural skin, with my bracelet secured around my wrist, I truly feel comfortable. Safe. Free. _ Alive. _

We continue through the snowy night until just before dawn when the cobalt hues of a clear winter morning creep across the sky. Rose turns down a dark country road. It's a road I recognize immediately. Tears form in my eyes, I can't stop them. I don't want to. 

I am going home. After all this time, I am finally going home. 


End file.
